Oh What a year!

Just want to say this:

A fabulous year indeed.

If two years ago, somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said - hey - two Christmases later you will be a mum - you will sit under the Christmas tree and open presents up with a baby who is your sweetness and light - I will probably tell that person yeah right. Thanks for giving me hope but I just can't see it happening.

But it did. And everything fell into place, and I am a mother. Wow. So happy everyday with my Poopee. Even now she has teeth and bites where it hurts most. Even with our continued broken nights. Everything pales in comparison to the times I get to spend with my Poopee.

I sincerely would like to wish everybody much happiness for 2008. To my cyberfriends who drop in every now and then, those whose dreams have been fulfilled, and those who are still patiently struggling through. Cheers and beers for everybody.

Love to you.

The Helicopter Parent

Always the late bloomer, for the first time since Poopee was born, I had my first `outing' - a.k.a. all by myself - for more than four hours. I went to have my hair rebonded.

Frank convinced me to give some time to myself, so he volunteered his mother to babysit Poopee whilst I had my hair done. I thought about it for at least two months already, especially since I have so much trouble dealing with my mother in law.

I drove over to her place, I gave her my packed bags (yes, bagzzz), I thanked her, blew Poopee a kissy wissy, and then I walked out of the door quickly before I change my mind. The moment the door was closed I heard my baby cry, it wasn't a tantrum cry - it was a fearful cry. I banged on the door, MIL opened up and I saw my baby with big tears and red rimmed eyes. I walked in and asked to hold Poopee (and she reached out for me) and I started to cry too.

Probably think I am nuts. Can't help it.

I am sure I will be much better with this separation thing next time.

In the end - I went, I have nice straight hair again.

Poopee was fine too. From what I heard later, Apeman had to drive MIL back to our house with Poopee because she was terrified of her new surroundings (and of MIL). She was happy as soon as she's home. And happier once she saw me four hours later.

It finally happened!

Well, nearly anyway.

I tried to sit my nearly eight month old Poopee up next to me today on our love seat. She is still a little wobbly sitting up on her own, so we need lots of practice.

Just as she had steadied herself, she leaned on me, with both arms encircling my waist, and looked up. It was the closest thing to a voluntary hug (with the alternative being my bear hugs to her). She brushed my arms gently (with the alternative being the lashing of my flesh with her sharp nails), and mumbled `Ma Ma'.

I think it was just a part of her speech development as a baby, she started saying `Ba ba ba ba...' since six and a half months to just about anybody including Apeman (not a good look when she calls out `Ba ba' to the butcher), but it was only recently she started the `Ma ma' thing. Today it is the first time she looked to me and say it.

Hey I will take it. Whether or not she means it that's good enough for me. She reduced me to tears. I have been waiting to hear that for a very long time.

And then she's nearly eight months

She is all sweetness and light. As corny as it may sound - she is the very reason I wake up every morning feeling in love and be loved.

Even though my love-bug is a frequent waker during the night. Sometimes as much as five or six times per night.

But oh, I am so, so in love.

Aunty Drew: `You know, I am totally in love with Megan.'

Niece (8 years old): `Aunty Drew, you know there are laws against things like this.'

Aunty Drew: *Gup*

Max

Our beloved Max passed away last night after a very sudden complication with his bowels, and two surgeries conducted as a result of that. His bowels apparently twisted severely, possibly from a genetic disorder, causing him excruitiating pain.

We are not taking it well at all. We miss him so much. Our house is never the same again with our favourite son. I still look out at the backyard and expect him to run towards us urging us to play ball with him.

We love you Max. Mummy miss you very much. Thank you for being there for every single heartache we suffered the past few years. It was a pleasure to have you as a part of the family.

Vomit

I am not a particularly bitchy person. I don't ever hold grudges against anybody - if I ever get angry enough to hate a person - it usually lasts as long as my short term memory - which is pretty short.

But right now, at this moment, I really want to yank my mother in law, by the head, and throw her out of my house.

Poopee became sick a few days ago. It was as per the doctor diagnosed - a common cold. As soon as she found out Poopee's sick, she nearly ramped her SVU into the post box on my driveway, creating skid marks, just to see Poopee. She threw me an angry look and said, `Is your daughter sick?' - as if its entirely my fault and my failure as a mother. When she saw Poopee - she was like, `Oh my God! You poor thing, don't worry grandma's here, you must be in a lot of pain you poor thing.'

I had the scary urge of doing that yank hair throw out of house thing.

Before I had a chance to do so - she had a go at me for taking her out to dinner the previous night, which, I must add, it was a dinner she participated in as well. Her sons wanted to take her out to dinner, and she didn't exactly turn the opportunity down. She said Poopee's now sick because we were `greedy' for restaurant food.

I don't know how to react to that comment except to say well then, we won't go out again at night for dinner. It's difficult - the typical reaction to that comment should be a stern `GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE'. But in my case, due to Apeman's closeness to his mother, it is difficult for me to have such a big reaction towards his saintly mother. It will cause a certain marriage rift. He has, on many occasions, tell me I should tell his mother exactly how I feel, but how can you? This woman doesn't listen. At times she is happy to humour me and do what I told her to, but eventually revert to what she feels is best. Other times she will speak down to me as if I am retarded. And anyway, how can I use Apeman's version of `stern language' and tell his mother where to go? She's bound to get upset and therefore causing troubles between me and Apeman.

I should be at my happiest. And I am in some ways. I look at my girl everyday and see that beautiful face of hers and wonder - how can we be so damn lucky? But lately, with my mother in law visiting us nearly every day (now that she has a reason to - Poopee), and spending up to four hours with us - watching us eat (she won't eat anything I cooked and look at what I cooked with an amused look), hogging Poopee, watching TV with us, talking to Apeman as if I don't exist - I feel like I want to vomit everytime I hear her car pulls up at our driveway. I want to throw her out even before she has a chance to get into our house. But I can't.

She makes me so unhappy. She makes me feel so unworthy sometimes with the things she say to me. And when I tell Apeman about it - he tells me its just the way his mum speaks. But it hurts. Everytime.

I must sound pathetic to you. I can't even stand up to this person in my own house.

Amusingly, she even told me I should stop breastfeeding Poopee when she was four months old. I found out later that it's because she expects me to return to the workforce and she will take over the full time care of my precious beloved. So it is easier for her for Poopee to be on formula.

This is one thing I can promise - not over my dead body will she be caring for my daughter.

The Passports

I can only write this quickly as Poopee is currently strapped unwillingly to her $14.95 stroller. From the gibberish baby noises she is making, it sounds a bit like `THIS IS SO NOT COOL MUM.'

We received our passports via special delivery today. I had to renew mine, and Poopee needs a spanking new one. Just want to say the way they want you to be photographed is plain crap. No smiles, no smirks, no sideway flattery shots (as per Mariah Carey who always gets photographed from her right hand side because its prettier). Me and Poopee ended up looking like constipated prison escapees with no soul.

Poopee still managed to look like a doll though. :)

She turned five months...

This time last year I was hoping and praying. I was probably sitting in the hospital emergency room waiting to be seen by a doctor due to first trimester spotting.

Today my baby girl turns five months.

Happy fifth month birthday darling. Mummy is so incredibly proud and grateful to have you wake up next to me every morning.

Strike Two

My mother in law yesterday decided that it is necessary to visit twice a day just to get enough baby time with Poopee. She has been asking me lots of questions lately about (me) returning to work etc. I never even hinted to her that I want to return to work.

She walked into our bedroom, looked down at our (sound) asleep Poopee. I decided to leave her alone so she can watch Poopee in peace. Within seconds, I saw her coming out of our bedroom with a (now) awoken Poopee in arms. She always does this. She comes over, and wakes my Poopee up just so she can play with her.

It's fine if she is here once a week or something. But twice a day does not give her the right to wake my baby up whenever she wants. She is a supposingly experienced mother herself, she should know better than to wake up a sleepy baby, especially since it has taken me more than an hour to put her to sleep.

I don't know if I should lose it with her. I am fucking angry.

The sign

One day we took a small trip to the local shops. As we stopped at the red light, I looked behind to check on Poopee, I saw her spikey haired head bobbing up and down, making baby gurgling noises that was music to my ears. Then I saw the BABY ON BOARD signage stuck to the rear window of our SUV.

That reminded me years ago, right after my second or third IVF cycle failure, I was dragged to a Baby-Pregnancy expo by a non-friend. A stall selling child restraint gear was giving those signages out for free. A woman handed me one as I walked past, I accpeted, and tucked it in a bag full of Ribena drinks I purchased that day.

We moved house twice since then. The signage travelled with us. It was moved from one drawer to another, tucked in a box, thrown away twice, retrieved and cleaned again, and eventually was lost in a pile of infertility collectibles including DVDs from specialist fertility centres from the US, my glory ovaries photos, my surgery photos, my IVF bills.

Right after the birth of Poopee, when I was cleaning up the room for her, I found this signage. I finally have the opportunity and legit reason to use it. I have a baby. In a car. With me.

Poopee and I came a long way. Though she's only four and a half months old, I feel like I have known her forever.

We Fend for ourselves...

Apeman left us to go on his first business trip since the birth of Poopee.

It's tough, but since I do most things for Poopee (apart from the odd nappy change during the night by Apeman), it isn't anymore difficult when he's not around.

But the loneliness gets to me. Not having an adult person to talk to at the end of the day to share Poopee stories is tough. Can't go out either. That killer flu is going around in Perth at the moment - so better not risk it by taking Poopee out.

Was so excited today, because Poopee was lying in her portacot, and suddenly I saw her trying to lift herself up (a bit like doing a sit-up). It was so cute and hilarious at the same time, a real shame Apeman's not here to see it. My Poopee lights up my day by giving the biggest toothless grins, and she giggles, really giggles whenever she sees my boobies.

Oh - and she recently learnt how to kiss me. When I lean over her for a kiss she opens her mouth to receive me. Moments like these makes me want to freeze it and keep this memory forever and ever.

My Sweetness

Poopee was conceived around this time last year.

Wow.

Sitting up with some support from Apeman.

My little eskimo.

I simply cannot stop kissing her and holding her. So much. So much that I need to have physiotheraphy for my wounded wrist (for constantly holding this 7kg love-heart of mine).

Look Ma - no hands!

In my own little retarded world of breastfeeding, whenever Poopees calls for a breastfeed in public, I feel like I need to proof to the world that I can do it PROPERLY like everyone else.

I have joined a mothers' group in a local community centre, spending a few hours a week with some other groovy mums. Sometimes I have to breastfeed Poopee just to calm her down. I see other mums in the group doing it oh so graciously. It was baby on one arm, top up, latch on, and moments of peace soon after. Just like the movies.

For me and Poopee it was lots of awkard cradling and wrestling (since we don't have a cushion with us), me flashing my full boob at everybody, me holding Poopee in an ultra contorted awkard position, Poopee trying to latch on, me accidentally pulling her off my nipple because I was loosing grip, me grimacing with pain, Poopee with the loudest suck in the room - it was SLURP SLURP SLURP.... followed by a loud burp and fart.

It was all in good fun. Me and my girl rocks the mothers group.

Speechless

What is wrong with people these days?

Just a week after Baby Catherine was abandoned, another new born baby girl was left wrapped in towels, on the doorstep of a church. She suffered from hyperthermia due to the cold (I get teary just thinking of the little tinker left in the cold to fend for herself).

Then the unspeakable happened, just a few suburbs away from mine, a dead baby boy who was only days old was found in the rubbish tip. His mother had thrown him out like trash into the household rubbish bin. The authorities haven't released any details as to how the baby died, but they are appealing for the mother to come forward.

And here we are, women who have problems with fertility, battled years of IVF and hormone treatments and suffered numerous heartaches, trying to have that miracle baby at all costs - whilst other people are throwing them out like trash. Sure, I have sympathy for people who under their own circumstances cannot bring up a child and felt the need to give the child away, but if people are knowledgable enough to have sex, unprotected sex for that matter, they should be knowledgable enough to make a wiser decision about how to handle an unwanted baby. There are proper adoption routes they can take, and community is available - you don't just leave a baby out in the cold, or to simply throw them out. I hope the little baby boy did not suffer, I really, really hope so.

Poopee has just started to make her first baby gurgling sounds. She loves a good conversation with me, and even watch TV with me together. I feel so blessed to have her, everyday.

Baby Catherine

Stories about abandoned babies certainly tugs my heart strings. This one more than ever.

I read an article from WHO magazine on Baby Catherine recently, there were two pictures of the beautiful little baby. Her baby features are so similar to my own Poopee (despite being from a completely different race), but still, looking at her baby lips and eyes, baby cheeks...made me cried.

She will never know the comforts of suckling from her mother, to be loved and held because she was wanted and needed. She will know eventually when she grows up that she was left in a cardboard box on Mother's day. Just the thought of that makes me teary.

I pray hard for Catherine to be fostered by the best of families, to have somebody to love her so much that love words will be whispered into her ears just like I do to my own.

Today I would like to shoot...

my mother in law.

After she practically moved in with us during Poopee's first month, we somehow managed to get the house key back from her (we didn't give her the key in the first place). Somehow with her getting in and out of the house all hours of the day didn't sit well with me.

No.

She has an opinion on everything, and is not afraid to tell me what a bad mother I am because I don't know how to put a cardigan on my daughter, my breastfeeding routine is wrong, the fabrics of the grow-suits I bought for Poopee are of poor quality, I don't know how to change Poopee properly, I am the one RESPONSIBLE for giving Poopee a slight nappy rash because I didn't wipe her properly...etc etc etc.

I was simply too tired, and too emotional to fight her. I offered fimble explanations, she brushed my explanations off as being too `new age' - after she has looked after 3 children of her own and four grandchildren. So she is ALWAYS right.

My breaking point was one day last week, Poopee did the biggest poopee in her nappy, and without asking me, MIL picked up my child and declared it is time to bath. In the past I refused to let her bath my child because I maintained that I want to do everything myself. This time she wanted to do it just to SHOW me how it's done - properly. I was too tired to protest so I followed her into the bathroom like a little girl.

Bad moment of weakness on my part.

She started to lecture me about my technique. She said she overhead Poopee's cries during her bathtime (I should never let her into the house), and said it is probably because I am too quick to get her into the water and frightened the living lights out of her. I said not all babies enjoy bathtimes - some babies cry. She said, ALL BABIES ENJOY THEIR BATHS. No babies will cry like Poopee did.

So on her high horse, she begin her perfect bathing technique. And guess what, Poopee cried. She cried real good.

And then, she told me it is because the water I prepared was too hot. I was boiling the poor baby, she said babies need to have luke warm water.

I said - this is luke warm water. See? (Dipping my elbow into the water). This is luke warm. Even the midwives in the hospital said this is perfectly okay.

She said - no - it has to be cooler. This is hot water. Not lukewarm. You are burning your own child.

My eyes were wide open in shock - THIS IS LUKWARM WATER. My god - any cooler than this my daugther will be bathing in cold water.

Afterwards I was so angry, so FUCKING angry, because she was doubting my abilities as a mother, she always want to be right, she wants to have the last word. And how can I argue with her? She looked after 7 children compared to my 1.

When she knocks on the door these days (we took the house key back), I am going to pretend I didn't hear it. I really want to kick her off her fucking high horse and give her a dose of reality. The reality that I AM Poopee's mother, not her.

And you know what the worse thing is? When she comes over, she takes Poopee off my arms straight away, and refuses to give back until she leaves - which can be hours later. I don't want to be petty like her, and fights to carry my own child, so I let her. But it makes me feel so vulnerable that she feels it is her given right to take Poopee away from me when she wants. She really is a very frightening human being. She can't wait until I return to work, hopefully soon, so she can look after Poopee and give her the best care.

But I'm afraid, not even over my dead body.

All advice on how to deal with his person are welcome. Apeman knows his mom is the equivalent of Hitler. But he soothes me by saying his mom is only here these days for `quick' visits, so I should just let her be. She shouldn't walk into MY house and tell me what to do.

The Vaccination Story

Not much to tell really, except I saw a massive needle heading towards the direction of my beloved's baby thigh, nearly all of that needle plunged into her flesh. There were cries of pain and agony. Then the other baby thigh was offered. Yet another needle, which I was told hurts even more than the first needle, was plunged into tender baby flesh again. More cries of agony, tears rolling down cheeks. I quickly sat up and cuddled Poopee close to me.

I looked down at the face of my baby-cake, she was fast asleep already - like it never happened.

The tears were all mine.

Sigh....we do it again in two months time.

The Post-Natal Checkup

So anyhoo I went for my post-natal checkup last thursday. It was exactly 8 weeks ago since I gave birth.

My single stitch had healed long ago, even as soon as I left the hospital after four days. Everything feels pretty much back to normal except I am now a little loose down there. The bleeding stopped after four/five weeks. But it came back in two separate occasions - the last time was last week. So I was a little worried about Poopee leaving something behind inside my uterus.

The Good Doctor sent me off to do a pelvic scan. The uterus looked fine - no debri left behind. There was even a developing follicle, which scared the living hell out of me when it was pointed out to me (it used to excite me to the nth degree, it used to give me so much joy to see a developing follicle). Fortunately it was on the wrong side (the little ovary that grew back, and with no traffic to the uterus).

Which brings me to the next big discussion with the Good Doctor - to use contraception or not from hereon.

Pfft....contraception. It used to be a dirty word for me. It was a joke. I WAS the walking contraception. No pills needed. Isn't this all very ironic? I was discussing contraception with my fertility doctor.

Apeman is very keen to make Poopee II. Drew is very happy and content with her life with new Poopee, and is keen to enjoy life with my precious bub as much as possible minus all of the reproduction dramas we experienced in the past years. Apeman thinks Poopee needs a sibling, we should tempt fate and try for another baby. Drew thinks if Apeman wants another baby he better learn how to self-reproduce.

To be honest, I am just plain scared to step into the baby-making minefield again. Although I have done it once, I am not sure if I can do it again. Plus I am not prepared to go down the IVF road again - which conviniently, we don't have anymore embryos left from our last cycle. Only two days ago, I had the pleasure of throwing out my remaining IVF kits containing leftover drugs and some needles. It feels really weird, a bit like breaking up a bad drug habit.

So the conclusion with regard to the contraception question was, I won't go on the pill in the short term because we can't be THAT lucky. pretty stupid I know, but we honestly cannot be that lucky. And who has time for sex these days anyway, I rather sit down and eat a good meal. :>)

That's why I wanted to be a mom

Updates

Feels like a million years ago since I last blogged.

These days, getting a feed myself so I can have sufficient energy is the most important thing. Other things, which used to be important in my life, such as getting my faced washed in the morning, putting on creams, getting my hair dead straight just the way I like it, reading the newspaper, putting on proper clothes, sleeping ... everthing seems so secondary, and unimportant. When Poopee's awake, which seems to be 95% of the day (and sometimes at night), everything that belongs to me, or what I feel is important, suddenly goes out the door.

Is this normal? Am I doing this properly?? Looks like I am not doing this motherhood thing as graciously as I anticipated I would. Ha!

Poopee today weighs a healthy 3.4kg, and measures 55cm. She has gained more than 1.2kg since birth. She's developed a real cheeky attitude, she wants to be hold all the time (which I don't mind, and love it when she falls asleep in my arms), and when she's left alone in her cot, she screams bloody murder!!!!!! So that's why these days there isn't alot of time for myself. She breastfeeds well now. Sometimes she just am not that interested so I give her the bottle. I guess I am pretty lucky that Poopee is so versatile with the two options. She has also given us plenty of cheeky smiles, so beautiful that Apeman holds her and kisses her all the time, acting as if he is the only person in the world who made a baby.

The isolation is getting to me though. Since negotiating with my mother in law, she has toned down on her `visits' to just once a day. Sometimes she doesn't show up at all just to give me some time alone with the baby. Although I appreciate this new found time away from my mother in law, the time on my own is starting to get to me. I hope to start venturing out on my own and do things real soon. Like joining a mothers group or something.

And.... this is an interesting discovery, has any of you new mothers tried having a boooink with your other half yet? I tried two weeks ago. Apeman and I tried to do it for the first time since I found out I was pregnant last year (yes...that long...). The moment he went inside I said, `I feel so loose.' He said the same. If I feel loose imagine what it's like for him. It just got too depressing so we stopped. He said we will have sex again when Poopee's 18 months old to try for a second baby.

I said, you can wait longer because there ain't going to be a second baby. I feel blessed already with Poopee. A second baby will be like winning the lottery twice, and I don't want to tempt fate.

Now....for me, it's time to get back to the baby. It's time for a nappy change for the 143th time today. Poopees loves a good shit.

The longest sleepwalk

Hands up in the air like I just don't care...

Events so far:

1. I have one cute Poopee whom I absolutely adore, and cannot stop kissing or looking at her. She has these really hairy ears which makes her so much more endearing to me. I whispers love words to her ears all the time.

2. I have one stubborn mother in law who now practically lives with us, she's always here telling me what to do, what not to do, what to eat, what not to eat. She shows up at 8am in the morning, and doesn't leave until late into the night - and during the entire time she scrutinises my every move. She makes me feel like I have been doing everything wrong (just because it is not what she's used to), it makes me want to try even harder. I have tried to be nice and politely tell her I don't need the help or the unwanted advice, (I can manage to change my own baby THANKYOU!), but that just seem to make her do even more for me. I am now at a stand-off with her. Long story, boring to elaborate, I have spent the first two weeks crying about it because I felt like I have been bullied, now I have decided to stand strong and will tell her to back the hell off.

3. We have established some sort of breastfeeding success. Poopee is not doing it entirely right, but as long as my girl is happy to suckle, I am happy.

4. I have gained 8kg and realise nothing in my extensive wardrobe fits. Not even my fat pants. But I do enjoy my new womanly shape to a certain extent.

5. We now call Poopee `C-C' - short for chubby cheeks.

Phase II - The Real Thing

Firstly thanks to those who dropped by and for your beautiful comments. Everyday I look at my little girl and is still in disbelieve - that I was pregnant, and I gave birth to Megan. A few after-thoughts and updates:

• My only birthing injury was a second-degree tear which required a single stitch. I knew exactly when it happened - it was when Poopee's head was just about to emerge, I saw a trickle of blood running across her head. I panicked and asked the doctor where did that blood come from? Was it from the baby? He calmly told me I was a good mother already, worrying about the blood coming from my baby and all, he said the blood belonged to me. I calmed a little and continued to push. Anyhow the stitch pretty much healed up within days. I haven't had a close inspection yet, but things seems pretty normal. I still have a full vagina as far as I can tell.
• I am now having the longest period ever. I was told it will last 4 - 6 weeks. The bleeding has slowed down a little today (Day 13), but I am still sitting on the maternity pillows Apeman bought from the pharmacy. Note to self: Never send a man to do a woman's job. He will buy the wrong type of sanitary napkins.
• Leaving the hospital on Day 5 was an emotional one. We wrapped Poopee up in the pink gear her father had chosen for her when I was 34 weeks pregnant, and a white floral wrap I have been saving for the big day - and said our goodbyes to the hospital staff and midwives. By the time we reached the elevator I was in tears. Just very emotional leaving the hospital and with my babe in my arms.
• I missed being pregnant. I know I whinged about getting heavy and all that pelvic pains and etc. But really, after all the worrying I did during my pregnancy at times I totally neglected the enjoyable moments. I missed my big belly, I missed feeling Poopee kicking me from inside, I missed having her all to myself.
• Parenthood is tough. I spent the first three nights watching Poopee almost 24 hours a day (therefore not sleeping much). I worry about her breathing, other times I just sat and watched her. Watching Poopee can be my full time job. She makes sounds like Michael Jackson when she sleeps (like the `woooo-hooo-hooo'), and is so incredibly animated. She can contort her face hundreds of times when she sleeps. I still look at her and think back that moment when I discovered I was pregnant. It was like a dream.
• Didn't see this one coming - breastfeeding troubles. My girl REFUSES to take to my breast. She learnt how to use her arms as weapons the last two days. So whenever my breast is near her, she pushes me away, but not before she scratches me. Last night when Apeman tried to take her off me, Poopee BIT me on the nipple. For somebody so small (and without teeth) she sure can bite. I was in pain for a long time after that. So now I am expressing milk in between her feeds, pumping away for the Mother of the Year. Around the clock. Am seeing the Lactation Consultant again for the second time next week to see if there is anything else we can do.

We are both still deliriously happy. Megan is our delight.

The Sunshine of My Life

Just hours after my last post about narkiness, one hour past midnight into the start of 22nd March, my waters broke with a vengance - I officially went into labour. I had a late night, for some insane reason I wanted to finish up all the accounting work I was doing for Apeman, so I was on the computer madly tapping away. Eventually Apeman managed to get me off the computer and in bed with him. We talked about when Poopee will arrive, we talked about the possibility of getting an induction in my 39th week, we talked about Poopee.

Then I felt a gush of warm fluids passing through the vagina. I was scared shitless. I rang the midwife whilst sitting on a towel, and was told to go straight to the hospital.

1:30am We arrived at delivery suite reception.

1:31am I requested for epidural. Fuck the previous drugs free birth plan.

2:00am I felt the first strong contraction. It was painful but bearable.

2:05am I was told I am 2cm dilated.

2:10am Was told to get some rest as I was still in`pre-labour' and still has a while to go. Was hit with a massive contraction pain and I requested for epidural again.

3:00am Standing under hot showers with nozzles directing at the lower back, cursing in two different languages. Heard a lady next door moaning and screaming through her own contractions. We somehow managed to synchronise.

3:30am Epidural guy arrived. Apeman supported me whilst the doctor insert that happy drug into my back. It was a funny feeling, slightly painful but at this stage I was desperate for anything.

3:45am Internal examination indicates I was 5 cm dilated. I was also told my Poopee has a full head of hair.

6:00am Calmly discussed the joys of parenthood and infertility with young midwife as I breathe through my contractions. Her shift ends at 7:00am so we both agreed it was a shame she doesn't get to see me give birth...etc. I couldn't feel the pains, but can definitely feel an uncomfortable pressure on my bottom. It wasn't pleasant but bearable.

7:30am Apeman bought coffee, Starburst lollies and a muffin. I was going to have a bite but was told not to in case I need to go to theatre. Was told my good doctor who will be doing the delivery will arrive at 8:45am to do an internal examination on me.

8:40am Good doctor arrived. Fingers in. The first thing he said was, `This baby has a full head of hair!'. The second thing he said was,`On your next contraction I want you to start pushing.' I was 10cm dilated - and was a little surprised because I thought I still have a few hours to go!

8:45am First push. I felt like I was pushing at nothing in particular. My doctor positioned me properly and asked me to push against a certain direction. I did my best.

9:14am Apparently my best was good enough. The head of my beautiful girl emerges.

9:15am The love of my life slide out of my body easily and was placed on my stomach. She has a full head of wet hair, her arms and legs were kicking up in the air - screaming at the indignity of it all! I was crying and told her in my mother's tongue that I have been waiting for her for so long. Then she opened her eyes and `see' me and Apeman for the first time, she is indeed the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

We named her Megan. She is forever my Poopee. My sweet. My everything. She is well worth the wait.

Currently I am surviving on adrenaline, since giving birth on 22nd March I haven't slept much at all. I can't take my eyes off her. She looks like Apeman when she sleeps, and a bit like me when she opens her eyes. She weighed a little under 7 lbs and measured 42cm long when she was born.

And yes she indeed has a full head of hair, it makes us so proud to push her around the hospital nursery amongst all the other bald-headed babies. Words cannot explain how happy we both are at the moment. We are trully blessed.

My Inner Narkiness

The novelty is starting to wear off.

As much as I enjoy this miracle pregnancy (with the second trimester been a dream come true), I now really want to give birth, like right now or even YESTERDAY. I have been dreaming and dreaming about my little Poopee, wondering how she looks like. Even Apeman had a dream about her. So she must be near.

The thing which annoys me, and to be honest it used to amuse me and made me feel like the most popular girl in the world, is that now everybody is asking me when I am giving birth. The butcher, the pharmacist, the girl I buy my Mt Franklin water from, my beautician, my hairdresser, MY FAMILY. Everybody. Everyday. My sister calls me up once a day and always starts the conversation with - `When are you going to pop?'. So last night I snapped and told her (in the best calm voice I could manage) to please stop asking me that question, I will phone you as soon as I go into labour (not). In the end it made me feel so horrible that I lost sleep over it. I feel bad because she is only asking out of concern and excitement for me - just like the rest of the people. I feel like a bitch.

I guess I am getting really frustrated because I can hardly go out these days (walking is painful due to the pressure exerted on my pelvis and butthole), so sitting at home waiting for something to happen, despite the various distractions Apeman has provided me with, is not entirely fun.

Last night I asked Apeman if he would like to `put out' - maybe by having a quick bonk we can speed things up a little. He looked at me with amusement and said yes. But it was a reluctant `are-you-sure' yes. So I said if you don't find me attractive enough these days to have sex with then bugger it. He said he feels disrespectful to Poopee if he makes it with me whilst she is still inside. Which is fair enough because the last thing I need in that cramped space of mine is a reluctant penis.

Writing that last sentence made me laugh. :)

That Epilator can wait....

Two days ago I saw the tiniest bit of blood streak on my cervical mucous after a routine wee. I analysed it for a little while, called the midwife, and was told it was probably a show. I doubted it because the blood streak was so tiny it cannot possibly be a `proper show'. But the midwife reckoned it was. Anyhoo I haven't seen anymore of that (blood) since.

Last night I tried my best to epilate my legs (we ain't going into labour with hairy legs here), unfortunately for me my trusty Braun epilator made a sad little noise and died on me at the most crucial moment (I was halfway through my other leg). So I was going to drive down to my local electrical store this morning to pick up a new one. And then I read about this. My Canadian friend who share similar due dates with me just gave birth, by surprise! I am totally happy for her that everything worked out well, and her baby is so lovely.

Looks like I am staying home today - I am just going to have to settle for one half-epilated hairy leg. Hope nobody notice.

A snap shot

Poopee's in da house.

37 weeks - The almost home run

I can hardly contain my excitement this morning - 37 weeks this week. I can hardly wait to find out how this Kinder Surprise will look like. My little chocolate egg.

At times she is like a breakdancer, kicking and manoveuring ther legs across my stomach. Sometimes it hurts so much I have to jump up and get some relief. I find it helps to talk to her. Poopee calms down for a few moments if I talk to her gently. It really is quite amazing.

Yesterday me and the Ape went to meet with the chief midwife for our pre-admission appointment. We went over the costs of everything (right down to the costs of phone calls and an epidural shot). We were both asked about our medical histories. One thing we did not discuss was my birth plan. I don't have one anyway so I guess that didn't really matter.

I am too tired to write anything sensible or remotely interesting. I haven't been sleeping at all. I wee up to 8 or 9 times a night, and I don't even drink that much water. I am so sleepy but am too scared to sleep during the day in case I can't sleep at night. Hopefully I will be able to get some sleep before the labour starts. Also my pelvis is about to fall apart.

ZZZzzzzzz....

36 weeks plus

Me and poopee were examined by the good doctor just now. The outcome of this appointment was:

• Mommy's blood pressure is still good (a.k.a. normal). So the discomfort I have been feeling lately (the bloating and pressure on bowels) is really Poopee's fault.
• Sugar levels fine - considering the recent indulgements I had, I am damn lucky already.
• Poopee has well, and trully, engaged in my pelvis. Her head is so deep into my pelvis I think I can almost touch her if I reach deep enough. But of course I won't try that one at home. That's mental.
• Poopee is growing well, and continues to be a good size, therefore making her a bit larger than the average baby.
• Internal examination at 38 weeks. And if the cervix is ready, I maybe induced as soon as 38.5 weeks. Which means I maybe having a March Poopee. Fingers crossed because I much rather be expecting the expected, than having my waters broken in public, probably at somewhere really inconvenient like the bank's queue or in my car whilst I'm driving. And with Poopee's size, it makes me a reasonable candidate for inducement.

Dumb-ass question of the week:

Good Doctor: I will be doing an internal examination on you in two weeks time.

Dumbass Drew: Is that going to hurt?

Good Doctor: I think you have bigger things to worry about in a few weeks time. And no, for your information, it doesn't hurt.

Apeman's moment of the week:

Apeman: I saw something really funny yesterday. I was watching you pick up dog shit in the backyard. You were wearing that short dress, and you leaned over, and I can see your undies, and that's the not funny part, I saw your underbelly too. It looks massive from the angle I was watching you from.

Drew: Nice.

Holy Crap!

Now I know I am not a slip of a girl. I know I have been indulging in food and sweet treats. I know I eat quite frequently and in abundance. Because I am happy and don't want to undernourish my unborn.

Imagine my utter shock and horror just now when I was moisturising myself post-shower in front of the bedroom room mirror - and saw patches of angry red welts running all the way up my buttocks and down to my mid-thigh. I have seen these welts before - maybe I wasn't looking for them. Those bloody Palmer's advertisements show them all the time - pregnant women with red stretch marks around the stomach to show you what you will look like if you don't use their product.

I religiously moisturise my stomach. Not with Palmer's stuff, but normal body butter because I have an allergic reaction to the Palmer's products. I must have thought my thighs are immuned to stretch marks.

Yikes!

35 Weeks 5 days Update

How low can you go?

Well apparently in my case, my already low-sitting baby bump has dropped even lower. My body literally can stop traffic these days. Lots of strangers come up to me asking me when I'm due - and get a huge shock when I tell them I still have at least four more weeks to go. The thing is I don't even look that big, but my low sitting baby bump gives people the impression that I was due YESTERDAY.

Even maternity pants at this stage are no longer comfortable. I wear the looset sack dresses just to give my low-hanging Poopee a bit of room.

I really can't wait to have Poopee out. I had another birthing dream last night. This time I dreamt about a drug-free delivery with my beloved Apeman and my good doctor by my side, Poopee weighs in at 17 pounds (yikes!), and she talks! It was very bizarre to say the least.

Poopee continues to use my pelvic floor as her bouncy-castle. She was kicking so hard last night during dinner, I can see (and feel) her little knobby knees pushing out from either sides of my stomach. I was in so much pain that I had to stand up and rock her gently. Think Ommpa Loompa doing a rather slow belly dance.

4 more weeks till I see my Poopee's face. I am going to rain thousands of kisses on her face and baby feet - just to make up for lost time.

34 Weeks + Several Days

Once I watched this movie, or maybe it was an advert, about this expectant mom who started to have contractions in the middle of the night. Her husband completely freaked out and ran around the house frantically searching for the car keys, hoping to get the show on the road as soon as possible. All this while the expectant mom stood calmly beside her packed overnight bag, smiling at her husband.

I never understood where that sense of calm came from.

Yesterday I woke up feeling `weird'. Like something was up. The weird feeling didn't go away and gradually throughout the day, I felt alot of pressure on my, urm, bum area. I can literally feel Poopee's head `descended' into my pelvic region. It was quite uncomfortable to say the least. Then later on the night, I started to feel the beginnings of a mild pelvic pain, for maybe 20 minutes or so.

No sense of calm from me. I completely freaked out to the point I had to put the TV on `mute' just so I can concentrate on my thoughts and what's happening.

Everything is okay today. I think it was Poopee wanting to lock herself in the `engaged' position, or something. I am carrying so low I just can't tell. I reckon when my waters break I will probably scream like a little girl.

In my freakish moments (what's new?) I promptly packed my bags for the hospital.

Better stay home just to be on the safe side. Oh. And charge all batteries.

34 Weeks

Wonderful, wonderful news today from my friend - who really is a trooper. It certainly makes my day. Well done Bugsy.

Today at 34 weeks I have severe back pain, minimal sleep, lots of uterus tightening/Braxton Hicks contractions, and the occasional flash of childbirth images floating in my mind. It is becoming real. To celebrate this 34-week milestone, me and my visiting girlfriend from London went to a teeny-bopper shop and tried on teeny-bopper clothes. She went nuts when she saw me in my tight rock-chic tee-shirt (bearing my underbelly) and unzipped tight crop jeans ensemble. It was a real vision.

Went to a Chinese New Year celebration dinner last night. Apparently this year is the year of the Golden Pig. Apparently lots of Chinese couples are fighting to conceive this year just to secure their own little golden piggy. Me and Apeman aren't fussy - all we want for Christmas is a healthy, happy baby. With Poopee being a golden piggy is a bonus.

She is already the apple in our eyes.

Halfway through the dinner we were told there will be a dragon dance performance. Loud drums banged through the entire time, so I was a little worried about Poopee's reaction to the commotion outside her safe home. She stopped wriggling for a few minutes, but once she got used to the noise outside, she started to kick her feet (against mommy's stomach) to the rhythm of the drums. I rubbed her bottom gently to soothe her.

I looked over across the table and saw my mother watching me. She had a wide grin on her face. Her attention was on me rubbing my baby. It was a nice moment between me and my mother, afterall she was there for me after all my failed IVF cycles.

Life as it happens

I hauled myself to my local McDonald's this morning for my weekly hotcakes sloshed with hash browns sloshed with hot chocolate binge.

As I sat down with my big breakfast, it occured to me that the next couple of weeks will be the last of my lonely carefree days. Possibly the next time I want a sit-down morning breakfast at McDonald's, I will have to consider my baby's needs, her mood of the day... etc ..amongst other lovely little baby things I will need to consider. I also realise that the `just the two of us' lonely days between me and Apeman may soon be over, or at least be different. Throughout this pregnancy I have not seriously considered what life will be like post baby - because I was too worried about the pregnancy. As per John Lennon's most famous phrase:

`Life is what happens to you when you are busy making other plans.'
Instead for me it reflects:
`Pregnancy is what happens to you are busy worrying about everything.'

It is not that I am not prepared for motherhood - oh GOD I totally am. I have been wanting to be a mom for such a long time, I cannot wait to have my little bundle of joy in my arms and care for her, and be her everything. It is just that I have been so worried about the pregnancy I have forgotten to enjoy (at the very least) the last days of our single-married life, just to treasure the things we normally take for granted. Like going to the movies anytime we want to, or to go to bed whenever we want and sleep however long we want.

Today during my meal at McDonald's, an old Chinese lady came up to me and spoke to me in her language (as I later worked out that it was in fact Beijing Mandarin, which is alot more intense than ordinary Mandarin). I realise the reason she came to me for help was because I am Oriental myself, and she thought maybe I could understand her. She seemed really distressed and later she brought her husband to me (who was using a walking cane and appeared alot older than her). Unfortunately I could not understand a word she said (Mandarin is not my forte), but from what I gathered they caught the wrong bus, and was left stranded in the middle of nowhere. Sadly due to their language problem nobody could help them. After much fumbling and hand gestures (her husband was able to utter a few English words), they gave me a phone number to call, which turned out to be a local Asian community association. I was able to speak to the lady at the reception and we used her our translator. The receptionist explained to me their situation as recounted by the older gentleman, and she asked if I could drop the old couple off at a nearby petrol station, and there I was to contact an associate of hers so he could pick them up.

I did and when their ride arrived, the old lady held my hand and thanked me. She said `good, good' and pointed at my belly. I think she was trying to say something nice about my baby. It was that instant my baby decided to kick in response. I nearly cried. I am not sure why, maybe something to with the older gentleman reminding me of my passed grandpa, or maybe it was just a nice moment. Whatever it was feels good.

The 32 Week Non-Event

Unborn Poopee's Gestational Age: 32 weeks and 3 days
Present: Drew & Apeman
Location: Ape-Land Bathroom
Evidence: A single stained Carefree panty-liner - breathable and unscented - stained with a questionable colour.

Drew: It's brown. I am telling you it's brown. Oh shit I think it looks a little red under this light.
Ape: Looks yellow to me. It's not brown, and definitely not red.
Drew: *Yanking the evidence from Apeman* - Look - it is fucking brown. I think it's a show. Oh fuck it's too early. What is going on? I am not ready yet. The baby can't possibly be coming out right now - it is not the right time....the lungs needs maturing.....gain some weight...it's fucking brown...oh shit.
Ape: Hey calm down. Take a shower first, and don't rush it, take your time and relax, then we will call the midwife okay? I still think it's yellow. It is no where near brown.
Drew; IT'S FUCKING BROWN. OH MY GOD. I am nowhere near ready yet! I haven't even packed my bags yet. I haven't even washed anything, I don't have a birth plan!!!!!
Ape: The shower. Now.

A 10 minute shower, followed by a 10 minute (with controlled inner-calm) conversation with midwife. Was told not to worry, brown discharge is not uncommon between 30 to 35 weeks. Any further coloured discharge or unusual developments to contact the hospital again. In the mean time I should rest up, put feet up at least, and call the doctor first thing in the morning to advice him on this latest development.

The evidence (stained panty liner) was left on display near the basin.

Unborn Poopee's Gestational Age: 32 weeks and 4 days
Present: Drew & Apeman
Location: Ape-Land Bathroom
Evidence: A single stained Carefree panty-liner - breathable and unscented - sadly displayed next to the bathroom basin.

Drew: It's yellow.
Ape: I told you so. You freak.

32 weeks

Often it feels a little freaky. Poopee's movements are very coordinated now. Instead of jabs and sudden reflex movements, she is now doing slow (but coordinated) arms, legs and elbow movements. Last night, as I laid on bed (probably a little too quickly), she wasn't ready for my fast movements so she literally went from one side of my stomach, swwwwwish and toooooink onto the other side of my stomach. It was really cute. Then she thrashed her legs and arms fiercely to let me know - NOT HAPPY MOM!

Lately Apeman's been inspecting my body alot. Not in the dirty way, but he is totally fascinated with my body changes. The boobs are bigger (and a bit saggier, which is strange for somebody with small boobs to start with), the stomach is stretching and stretching, plus I am carrying quite low so he finds that amusing too. He talks to his unborn every night - telling her how much daddy loves her, and how he can't wait to see her face. It's quite sweet. Oh - he told me he misses sex too.

Yeah whatever.

No other major developments except we bought a stroller on impluse (it felt right when we saw it), and I bought myself a nappy bag - my last little bit of luxury before baby arrives. I measure 42 - 43 inches around the stomach, and I haven't seen my pubis-clitoris region for months now. I seem to have zero hair loss (for months - I cannot find a single strand of stray hair on the bathroom floor - or anywhere else).

I have also started to think a little about the birthing process, wondering how we are going to get le-babe out from le-little-hole. It's scary but I will worry about that once I stop worrying about carrying le-babe in le-utero.

Knickers Freak

Hasn't been a good week as the pain at my tailbone is getting increasingly worse - I average maybe about 3 hours sleep per night. Sleeping on my sides, my back or even sitting up doesn't seem to do the trick. However, Poopee's kicks more than makes up for the pain and lack of sleep. It's worth it.

And since these days I don't look forward to sleeping (sadly it is almost like a chore) - I look for things to do just before I go to bed to tire myself out. Last night interestingly it was to tidy my knickers drawer.

I am not proud of this, and this maybe a freakish tendency, but I have more than 80 pairs of knickers. Let's just say I will never EVER run out of knickers to wear.

But don't get me wrong, I am not a spend-freak because I never overspend on a single pair of knickers - my philosophy is that every pair is my faovurite, so there cannot possibly be a pair I love so much that I have to pay premium for it. I almost always buy on sale, and there is not a single pair in my drawer which I don't like - which explains the ridiculous quantity.

The obsession probably started when I was 16 - that's when mom stopped buying me knickers and I had to go out and buy my own. Mom used to buy me these hideous granny styled knickers by the dozens. My first purchase was sexy, they are black and slightly lacy and therefore seemed naughty to me. They were hideously uncomfortable (back then, hipsters styled knickers didn't exist) - the lace just keeps digging into me.

I buy knickers from anywhere and everywhere - I have cheap but reliable ones from KMart and Target. I also have dodgy ones I purchase on impulse overseas - including a few kiddie-sized ones (that were meant to fit all) from China and Singapore which never really fit me in the first place but I try to jam myself into them whenver I can. When I was in the States last year I had the opportunity to be up close and personal to Victoria's Secret, which absolutely thrilled me to bits. I ended up with a few pairs of lacy ones, including one pair that has `Kiss Me' engraved at the back and pink ribbons on either side of the hips. Haven't worn them yet because I don't want Apeman to maul me if he sees me in them.

My favourites are probably from the Elle Macpherson range, she makes good knickers - slightly uncomfortable because of the wedge factor she so seems to favour but nevertheless tasteful. I also enjoy the Bonds variety - but they wear out very easily so I tend to them in bulk whenever they goes on sale. Oh the colours and patterns available are nice too.

I don't have a single favourite pair, but there is one pair which I am quite partial to (but still not my favourite). I still remember the day I bought it. It was late night shopping, another lonely night, there was a sales rack with tonnes of cast offs from a sale, and there it was - a pair of Calvin Klein nude coloured granny styled knickers. It is so plain you can almost miss it if not for the hideously expensive price tag. The recommended retail price was $70 but it was marked down to $20. Still epensive for a pair of nude knickers but I was totally obsessed with it. The reason? It has two frilly bits of pink lacy fabric hanging off either side of the hips, its so damn plain but so damn sexy at the same time. When I put it on it looks totally granny, but casual, and slightly sexy all at the same time. It is just timeless. I had to have it and so I did.

I also have quite an extensive (yet affordable) sleepwear/lougewear collection which I will talk about, I'm sure, another fine day.

30 Weeks

Two significant events occured yesterday.

The first one is my 30 week OBS appointment. For the first time in ages (since the earlier delightful ultrasound sessions to measure size of Poopee), my OBS was able to feel for the size of Poopee. He discovered two things - first Poopee is currently sitting head down, which probably explains why she's been doing little kicks just underneath my breasts. Secondly, at 30 weeks old Poopee is approximately the size of a 31/32 week old - which makes her an above average sized baby. Which surprised the both of us because me and Apeman are not that big in size.

The second significant event was our first pre-natal baby class. It was delightful. I cannot describe how pleased we are to be able to finally attend a baby class - I enjoyed every minute of the session - and look forward to the visit to the maternity ward next week. But there is still that small icky feeling - with me feeling like a fraud sitting amongst that group of pregnant mothers and expectant fathers. That infertile chip on my shoulder lingered as I eye other pregnant bumps amongst the group and wondered what journey they had to travel in order to be here tonight. Fortunately I was constantly reassured by the little life inside me - Poopee was wriggling and turning slowly throughout the entire session, I found myself rubbing her raised bottom afffectionately.

They showed us a birthing video. Afterwards when the midwife turned the lights back on, I find myself blinking away tears. I looked over to Apeman and saw his eyes were red - like mine.

29 Weeks

Here's the latest of how I look now. In full maternity glory.

I went to a dinner party last night - all my closest friends were oohing and ahhing over my belly - gently touching it and making cute baby comments. As far as I can tell, Poopee is laying sideways - her bottom is on the right side of my belly (which pokes out occasionally when she stretches), and her head on my left side - which makes my belly appears much wider than usual.

Oh and I KNOW my butt look big in this photo. Apeman's been trying to get me to go to the beach with him, but I told him I ain't putting on a bikini because there is NO WAY I am showing my bare bits to the public. I am just a little self conscious about it and felt protective about my new body.

Just the other day, I dropped by a local pharmacy to check out their range of feeding products. It was a really hot day, and I was absolutely dying for a wee. I left the pharmacy and into the carpark, only to discover that some TOOL has parked right up against the driver's side of my 4WD. Initially I really gave it a good go to enter the car in various positions, but my belly was in the way so in the end I had to give up and waited for the other car owner to show up. And of course he/she never did. So I asked a bystander to reverse my car out of the spot for me so I can climb in. It was the first time I feel really clumsy and helpless.

I have 2.5 months to go. Apparently this is when the belly really grows - and I look big enough as it is!

Some Amusement

Firstly thanks to those to commented on my dog problem - I appreciate all your comments and from now on I think we will just have to be careful with who Max mixes with. Nothing to follow up as the female dog owner remains uncontactable so there is really no resolution.

There has always been a mild case of nipple hair for me (being a dark haired girl and all). Nothing tragically ugly, just tiny little black hairs around the nipples. The pregnancy somehow had aggravated the growth of nipple hair and suddenly I became the Apewoman - I have seriously large nipple hairs and a small patch of soft hairs on my stomach. There is also this hideous ring of hairs around the belly button.

It got rather embarrassing, I almost didn't want to go naked in front of my beloved of 12 years.

And that is not the only amusing part for me.

Ever since the eve of my first trimester and throughout the entire second trimester, I began to experience nocturnal orgasms during my sleep. Initally I thought I only dreamt about them, but then I began to wake up FEELING these orgasms. OF COURSE it scared me crapless, because there were times when the orgasm subsided I feel a little pelvic crampy. I was wondering if the orgasms were doing any harm to Poopee (and how Poopee will think of me as a mother...having hands-free orgasms and thinking about sex all the time in my sleep and all...). I did a little research but I couldn't find an explanation, although I managed to find one woman who had orgasms (on her own in her sleep) throughout her pregnancy, even during her breastfeeding period. Needless to say, Apeman thinks I am a dirty girl and he was a little jealous.

Then third trimester kicked in.

First thing I noticed was I no longer have my orgasms. I used to have them up to four times a week. (Yes, lucky isn't it?). Which is good. And then a few days ago in the shower I noticed all of my nipple hairs have fallen off. LIKE, ALL OF THEM. Not a single one remained. Not even the little tiny ones. I couldn't have done a better job plucking them myself. I take this as a blessing. Somehow I think porn star nipples looks much better hairless.

I have also finished knitting a couple of cardigans for Poopee, I will post them as soon as I find out where Apeman left my camera. He is a dead man if he looses it again.

Max

And it just became a little more interesting.

A few days ago (before Apeman approached the police to file a complaint about the death threats he received), the female dog owner apparently contacted the Ranger and lodged a complaint. The nature of the complaint is apparently `Dangerous dog attacking innocent bystanders in common park'.

And of course this got me worried. I think this woman wants her pound of flesh from Max. She wanted him gased and put out of his misery.

Apeman was required to fill in a statement outlining his side of the story. The Ranger just dropped by to speak to us just now (and to take a look at Max). The first thing the Ranger said to us was he too gets annoyed when people talk shit about big dogs. Just because they are big dogs it doesn't mean they are monsters. I told him Max was also bitten during that incident, and he is constantly chased and play-biten by little small Jack Russells in the park. The Ranger agreed but unfortunately for us this woman is after her pound of flesh.

The accessment occured as I expected - Max literally licked the Ranger to death. (Yes, to death). We are talking about a Ranger, who probably has tens of other dog smells on him - including the dogs he dealt with just this morning, and Max just licked him and played with him. This is not the behaviour of a monster dog. If you are a true dog lover, you should know that too. He asked us to keep the death threat SMS messages and report any future ones from this woman if need be.

One interesting thing we discovered was this female dog owner could not be contacted once she made the call to the Ranger. He had been trying to contact her for a few days and she did not return his calls. Apparently all she wanted to do was to point the finger at us and run.

We have a clear conscience, Apeman paid for the vet bills and had to miss work this morning just to make himself available for the Ranger. Whereas she won't even make a statement herself. We have done everything we can and we hope this is the last we hear of this.

And yes - we will continue to take Max to the same park for walks - this time firmly on the leash - even if she said she will kill him if she sees him.

Follow up

Just want to do a follow up on my dog story - and thanks to those who offered words of support. It is now a little more serious as the female dog owner decided to send SMS messages of death threat to Apeman. I can understand her passion as a dog owner but I think she has definitely crossed the line here. The messages basically outlined how she would kill Apeman if she sees him again, and how she would hurt him. Apeman apparently kept the news of the new SMS messages from me for a few days, but he decided to take action (and tell me about it) when the messages are becoming more serious. Right now he is lodging a complaint with the police because he is worried about me.

She has also threatened to put a noose on my Max.

I am not going to take the injuries on her dog any lightly (but the vet re-confirmed to us that it was indeed a few grazes that probably did not require stitching - but they were stitched just to be on the safe side to avoid inflamation upon the request from the dog owner). But we have cooperated with the dog owner and paid the bills and so I don't know what else can we do to stop her from issuing death threats to us.

Will update again once we filed the police report.

The itching continued, though my stomach is not as red and itchy now. Thanks Tiffany for the soap information - I will look into that as soon as I finish this post!

I am just a little depressed about the incident with Max. It is amazing how quickly and easily your spirit is broken even though I am carrying the biggest lottery ticket win ever (my poopee).

Poopee continues to do well - she is packing in quite a good punch/kick these days. I love sitting down and watches her thrash abouts in my stomach. A funny story happened the other day when she was kicking me all morning, even whilst I was at my doctor's surgery. But as soon as I was laid out on the doctor's examination table (for him to check the size of my uterus) - she remained very, very still. My cheeky little quiet mouse. Then the moment we left the doctor's surgery she started up again.

My centre of gravity has definitely shifted, making me clumsy, and these days I waddle instead of walk. Nobody believe I am only 6 months pregnant - they thought I am close to term, or I am carrying twins. The third trimester is definitely not going to be as cruisy as the second....

I also went out and bought some maternity bras today. I have never paid that much money for bras in my life (and for something not very sexy at all) - but it was a new experience I enjoyed very, very much.